Sparse Trees and Pavilion, a Fan Painting by
Wang Meng (ca. 1308–1385)
B I R G I T TA A U G U S T I N
Research Associate, Department of Asian Art, The Metropolitan Museum of Art
S
parse Trees and Pavilion (Figure 1), Wang Meng’s only
extant fan painting, now mounted as an album leaf,
entered the Metropolitan Museum in 1991.1 It has
since been joined by one of Wang’s most impressive large
vertical paintings, The Simple Retreat (Figure 2).2 Painted in
monochrome ink on silk (now significantly darkened), this
landscape combines and unites a conventional “literati”
scene3 of a recluse in a hut under a pair of protecting trees
with inscriptions by the artist in standard script and seals on
both right and left sides.4
The equal importance of calligraphy, poetry, and painting was emphasized in China as early as in the eighth century, when the term “Three Perfections” came to refer to the
inclusion of all three art forms in one work.5 Wang Meng’s
small fan painting from the late Yuan dynasty (1271–1368)
extends this integration further, however, presenting an
early example of an innovative dualism of “painted” poem
and “written” painting, in which picture and poem are
mutually dependent in style and content. The pictorial component can and should be read as part of Wang’s poem,6
which describes the scene as follows:
In the empty forest, the leaves are dancing with
themselves to the whistling sound of the wind
In the thatched pavilion [I am sitting] alone under
the noonday sun.
In the southerly breeze green waves ripple all day long
Wearing a cotton cap and coarse cloth [I feel] no
summer heat.
This country man’s home is located near Yellow
Crane Peak
In the evening [I will] enter the empty grotto, and listen to the mountain rain.
Shuming, inscribed [this] for Weiyin.7
Metropolitan Museum Journal 45
© 2010 The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Wang Meng (ca. 1308–1385), one of the most influential
painters and later designated as one of the Four Masters of
the late Yuan dynasty, is well known for his large, narrow,
vertical works, which became particularly expressive in his
later years. Wang, whose style name was Shuming, was
born to a culturally prominent family in present-day
Wuxing, Zhejiang Province. He was a grandson of Zhao
Mengfu (1254 –1322), the paragon artist and statesman
serving the Mongol government in the first half of the Yuan
dynasty. Wang, too, initially pursued an official career. Early
in the 1340s, however, he retired to Yellow Crane Mountain,
northeast of modern-day Hangzhou, where he enjoyed literary gatherings, the company of literati friends, and traveling around Lake Tai. Wang may have started his painting
career at this time, yet his earliest extant dated work that is
generally accepted as genuine, Dwelling in Seclusion in the
Summer Mountains (see Figure 4), is from 1354. In 1368 he
accepted office under the newly established Ming dynasty
(1368–1644), reentering the government bureaucracy.
In the preceding Song dynasty (960 –1279) “literary men”
(wen shi) or scholar-gentlemen (often translated as “literati”),
began to strive to express their inner feelings directly and
unpretentiously, in contrast to the professional academic
painters working for the court, who sought to reproduce
nature as realistically as possible. Although all literati artists
composed poetry, it was only in the Yuan dynasty that they
started to inscribe their paintings with their own poems.8
These Yuan literati artists, all well-known calligraphers,
committed themselves to “writing” paintings in just the
same way they practiced calligraphy; their brushwork
became calligraphic and expressive. Zhao Mengfu was the
first to state that, from a methodological point of view,
painting and calligraphy were equals and that his paintings
were “written.”9 Eventually, painting, poetry, and calligraphy
appeared integrated, at times to the point where each component breathed the sense of the others and was essential
to the spiritually expressive whole, as in Wang Meng’s fan
painting.
Wang Meng’s Sparse Trees and Pavilion 83
1. Wang Meng (ca. 1308–1385). Sparse Trees and Pavilion, ca. 1361. Inscribed by Wang Meng. Fan mounted as an album leaf. Ink on silk, 9 7⁄8 x 111⁄8 in.
(25.1 x 28.3 cm). The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Ex coll.: C. C. Wang Family, From the P. Y. and Kinmay W. Tang Family Collection, Gift of Oscar L.
Tang, 1991 (1991.438.2)
84
2. Wang Meng. The Simple Retreat, ca. 1370. Hanging
scroll. Ink and color on paper, 53 3⁄4 x 17 5⁄8 in. (136.5 x
44.8 cm). The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Ex coll.: C. C.
Wang Family, Promised Gift of the Oscar L. Tang Family
(L.1997.24.8)
The round-fan format confines the painter to a small area,
requiring sure calculations to avoid aesthetic imbalance.
Round painted silk fans on long handles appear in eighthcentury Chinese paintings, indicating their existence by that
time.10 Commonly produced either for the court or for the art
market, the fans, in contrast to European ones, were used by
women and men of all social strata.11 Their mounting as
album leaves, usually for collections, appeared in the
Northern Song dynasty (960–1127) and enjoyed great popularity during the Southern Song (1127–1279). The small fan
format could be used for reduced or cropped views of larger
compositions—including landscapes, figures, and birds and
flowers—as well as for intimate and personal works.
Inscriptions, especially by the artist, are rare on extant
paintings from before the fourteenth century, and they are
especially rare on small works and fans.12 A few Southern
Song fans by court artists bear short poems, nearly all
inscribed by members of the royal family, for whose use and
delight those academic works were produced.13 Such paintings often also bear signatures, and occasionally titles and
dates. These inscriptions are usually supplementary to the
painting rather than an integral part of it. Wang Meng’s
Sparse Trees and Pavilion is therefore an exceptional example in which the painting and calligraphy are not only by the
same hand but also complement each other and are interdependent, thematically and, especially, compositionally—
responding to each other spatially and stylistically.14
In his fan painting Wang creates a dense view of tall trees
framing a pathway to the recluse’s hut. The work is dedicated to an absent friend, Weiyin, to whom Wang may have
sent the fan as an intimate gift. The composition of the painting is dominated by two imposing trees, covering much of
the fan’s surface but set off by an equal amount of space at
either side. The dark receding ground plane and Wang’s signature and seal on the left side are juxtaposed with the long
inscription on the right.15 A slightly brighter vertical division
is a remnant of the fan’s original central spine. A path leads
from the lower left between the two groups of trees directly
into a hut,16 empty but for a robed figure at the far right. His
gaze to the right has no visible object.17 Instead, the narrative focal point of the composition appears to be the area
immediately in front of him, where the calligraphy is set as
if resting on blades of grass and is framed by branches of
the tree (Figure 3). There seems to be an interactive force
between the figure and the writing, suggesting an intangible
yet strong link between the scene depicted and the abstract
medium of the calligraphy. A leaning tree shields the hut;18
its foliage touches the inscription. The tree’s leaves resemble
Wang’s blunt characters, which are written in a stubby form
of standard script and almost appear as long hanging
branches, establishing yet another correspondence between
writing and painting.
Wang Meng’s Sparse Trees and Pavilion 85
3. Detail of Figure 1, lower
right
The pictorial content of Sparse Trees and Pavilion—trees,
a pavilion, and a figure in a shallow foreground space—
appears generic, since the composition lacks a middle
ground or distant vista. The scene resembles a close-up
detail from Wang Meng’s vertical painting Dwelling in
Seclusion in the Summer Mountains: the pavilion with two
interacting figures in the center, set in a grand landscape
(Figure 4). But in contrast, the pavilion in Sparse Trees and
Pavilion, in spite of the presence of a lone figure, appears
virtually deserted, and the vast surrounding landscape of
the vertical painting is absent, here substituted by Wang’s
poem.
Poem and painting describe the same scene, yet the
poem extends and enlivens the pictorial imagery. While the
painting appears static, the poem conveys a vivid sense
of the summer breeze blowing through trees, grass, and
86
pavilion.19 Though the poem tells us it is noon, the hottest
part of the day, Wang, “the country man” in the pavilion,
feels comfortable in his loose garment. In the evening he
will return to the “grotto” (a metaphor for the wilderness
retreat of a Daoist recluse), perhaps his retirement place
near Yellow Crane Mountain,20 and will listen to the steady
and monotonous mountain rain, which may express Wang’s
nostalgic or melancholic sentiment.21 Wang may be looking
out toward Yellow Crane Mountain, but his gaze is almost
level with the dedication at the end of the poem, suggesting
that his inner thoughts are with Weiyin.22 The poem inflects
this tranquil and contemplative pictorial scene with a distinctly gloomy and lonely mood: Wang describes his environment as “empty,” without sound or signs and bereft of
other living beings, and himself as being “alone.” This interdependence of poem and painting sheds new light on the
4. Wang Meng. Dwelling in Seclusion in the Summer Mountains (with a detail of the pavilion), dated 1354. Hanging scroll. Ink and color on silk, 85 1⁄8 x 21 3⁄4 in. (216.1 x 55.2 cm).
Freer Gallery of Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C., Purchase (F1959.17)
classical theme of eremitic retreat, which achieved great
popularity in the fourteenth century.23 It stresses the tension
between movement and stillness, the sounds of nature and
emptiness, thoughts and loneliness.
It is the poem that brings to life the otherwise undetermined picture, conveying Wang Meng’s innermost feelings,
which only Weiyin, the recipient of the painting, might
comprehend fully.24 Perhaps Weiyin knew the place Wang
depicts. It is tempting to think that the two groups of differentsized trees stand perhaps for two persons or families, or two
different generations or ages. Not only do they frame the way
to the pavilion, but one of the trees shields the poet and
reaches out to Weiyin’s name in the dedication. The inscription, part poem and part dedication, suggests that the fan was
an intimate gift. The mention of a cooling breeze that animates
the leaves and grass may even point to the fan’s practical use.
Weiyin (the artist’s style name) may be identified as the
well-known poet Chen Ruzhi (1329–1385), some twenty
years Wang Meng’s junior. He and his younger brother, the
famous painter Chen Ruyan (1331?–1371), were prominent
figures in artistic and literary circles in Suzhou. Both were
close friends of Wang’s.25 As Richard Vinograd has pointed
out, the two brothers had very different personalities. Chen
Ruzhi was indifferent to official service, whereas his brother
Ruyan served the Mongol government. In the autumn of
1361, Chen Ruzhi and Wang Meng seem to have spent
some time together, traveling, visiting friends, and composing poems.26 Sparse Trees and Pavilion may either reflect
nostalgic thoughts about this experience or express Wang’s
anticipation of his friend’s visit to his retreat. A painting date
of about 1361, consistent also with Wang’s painting style at
that time, therefore seems likely.27
The viewer’s interaction with Sparse Trees and Pavilion
will likely begin with trying to access the work.28 Wang
Meng offers at least two accesses, one conventionally pictorial and the other calligraphic, thereby establishing a bidirectional narrative. The beginning of the path at the lower
left and the orientation of the pictorial elements (such as the
leaning tree and the figure in the hut) toward the poem on
the right open an entrance on the left and trace a walk along
Wang Meng’s Sparse Trees and Pavilion 87
the path toward the person in the pavilion—the very route
Wang himself had followed—yet extended into the space
beyond, perhaps as a reflection of his inner self. The long
poem at the right, on the other hand, represents the other
interface between the viewer and Wang’s world.29 If read
first (from right to left), the poem would guide the reader
into the painting, reversing the way through the pavilion, to
the “gate” of trees (which eventually will take Wang to the
invisible “grotto”), and finally to the left margin, where
Wang’s second signature, “Shuming,” brackets the pictorial
content at that side. Thus, the image is “read” as a continuation of the written lines, and the poem’s spirit is woven into
the painting’s narrative.30
Wang Meng’s Sparse Trees and Pavilion, at first glance a
conventional inscribed literati fan painting of the late Yuan,
extends the integration of calligraphy, poetry, and painting
found in earlier Yuan works. Whether Wang’s dualistic composition of “painted” poem and “written” painting is the
result of a deliberate effort or governed by the constraints of
the small size remains the artist’s secret. He certainly seems
to have composed his work to intimate his ideas: placing
himself at the margin of the pictorial image, where he looks
straight into his thoughts in the form of his poem, he
expresses his inner self while honoring a friend, and matches
painting and calligraphic style as well as composition to
create a narrative path through the picture. Moreover, a
number of Wang’s later large paintings reveal a similarly
sensitive and intricate interplay between writing and painting.31 In any case, Wang’s small work illuminates the prodigious ideas discernible in paintings of the late Yuan.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The author would like to thank James C. Y. Watt, Denise
Patry Leidy, Maxwell K. Hearn, and Jonathan Hay for their
comments and editorial input.
N OT E S
1. The work was originally untitled. See Fong 1992, pp. 458–59,
pl. 107.
2. “Picture of the Simple Retreat” (Su An Tu) is dedicated to a Daoist
master whom Wang Meng refers to by the same name, Su An. See
Hearn and Fong 1999, pp. 118–24. Dedications “acquired a succinct form” in the early Yuan dynasty, comprising both the “dedicator’s and the dedicatee’s names in signature” (Zhang 2005,
p. 619). Some of these dedicated works were used for expressing
social relationship, or yingchou. See Zhang 2005, p. 619. James
Cahill (1980, pp. 337–44) lists 113 works attributed to Wang Meng.
He regards 25 of these as genuine, including The Simple Retreat. He
lists Sparse Trees and Pavilion as a minor work, possibly genuine.
3. On the literati class in China and its transition in the Tang and Song
dynasties, see Bol 1992. Literati painting is here understood not
88
just as painting by literati (as in the Song) but as an art form, which
only started in the Yuan dynasty, that integrates the equally important parts of painting, calligraphy, and poetry into one entity. See
also Jonathan Hay’s consideration (2009, p. 103) of Yuan literati
painting as a distinct art form. For the most recent scholarship on
Yuan painting in general, see Ars Orientalis 37 (2007, published
2009), which contains papers of which earlier versions were presented at the conference “New Directions in Yuan Painting,” held
at the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and
Anthropology in Philadelphia on December 2, 2006. In that volume, see especially Harrist 2007, on Yuan literati painting, and
Chang 2007, on a work by Wang Meng.
4. The fan bears a total of five seals: one artist’s seal at the end of
each inscription and three collector’s seals.
5. The “Three Perfections” (sanjue) denotes not only the matching of
poetry, calligraphy, and painting in one work (Sullivan 1974) but
also the ability of the artist to excel in all three fields (Qi Gong
1991, p. 11).
6. Although the concept of contextual integration of inscriptions in
paintings had already developed in the early fourteenth century,
during the Yuan dynasty a further significant evolution took place
that went beyond the combination found in earlier Yuan works and
also differed from the praise of the Tang dynasty poet-painter
Wang Wei (699–761) by the Song literati Su Shi (1037–1101), whose
statement that Wang’s paintings are poems and his poems are
paintings did not refer to the integration of picture and writing. A
complete “dissolution” and interchangeability of pictorial and idiographic elements takes place, for instance, when characters
assume the function of image parts, as in the painting Mount
Baiyue (ca. 1360) by the Daoist Leng Qian (active second half of
the fourteenth century), where a mountain surface incorporates an
inverted Chinese character. A later example is Buddha (1760), by
Jin Nong (1687–1763), where the characters of a “nimbus”-like
inscription in “archaized” calligraphy surround and meld with the
figure.
7. Author’s translation based on that of Wen C. Fong (1992, p. 460),
with kind suggestions added by James C. Y. Watt.
8. The first major artist who consistently inscribed his paintings with
his own poems seems to have been Qian Xuan (ca. 1235–before
1307). Shou-chien Shih (1984) emphasizes the interdependence of
painting and poetry in the work of Qian Xuan, who seems to have
favored the horizontal format. Two exquisite paintings by Qian
Xuan are in the MMA: Wang Xizhi Watching Geese and Pear
Blossoms. John Hay (1991, p. 193) states that the unification of
painting and poetry by artists such as Qian Xuan and Zhao Mengfu
was motivated by “the search for expression of the self.”
9. See, among others, Hearn 2008, p. 80. Zhao Mengfu often used
the verb xie (write) in his inscriptions and dedications, emphasizing that he “wrote” both the calligraphy and the painting. Wang
Meng, however, uses ti (inscribe) in the dedication of his fan painting. While literati favored paper over silk as the optimum medium
for self-expressive brushwork, many continued to use silk for more
formal pieces. Compare Hay 1994, p. 132, on the transition from
silk to paper in the Yuan, and Hay 1985, for the painter’s “discovery of surface.”
10. Brinker 1979, p. 28.
11. Ibid., p. 7. Banneret-shaped bamboo fans have been found
in Chinese tombs. An example is that of Margravine Dai in
Mawangdui, Changsha, Hunan Province, of the second century
B.C., excavated in 1972 (ibid., p. 23, pl. 8).
12. The history of inscriptions starts with signatures on paintings in the
tenth century; see Zhang 2005. Round fans inscribed exclusively
with calligraphy seem to have existed by the fourth century. The
Sage of Calligraphy, Wang Xizhi (307–365), is said to have inscribed
fans with his calligraphy (Ledderose 1979, p. 22). A few contemporary fan paintings—such as Recluse Fisherman, Autumn Trees,
by Sheng Mao (active ca. 1310–60), in the MMA—bear the
date, the title of the work, and the signature of the artist but no
poem or dedication.
13. Also, fans entirely inscribed by Southern Song emperors sometimes formed a pair with painted fans. A pair of fans in the Cleveland Art Museum includes one painted by the court painter Ma Lin
(ca. 1180–after 1256) and another inscribed with a Tang poem by
the emperor Lizong (r. 1224–64), collaborative works that are
believed to have been “originally mounted together, back to back,
as a single functioning fan” (H. Lee 2001, pp. 104–5, pls. 23, 24).
See also S. Lee 1964, pp. 30–31, pls. 5, 6; and Harrist 1999.
14. The handscroll Fisherman, by Wu Zhen (1280–1354), also in the
MMA, is another good example of the successful integration of
calligraphy and poetry into painting, yet in Wu’s work it seems less
developed than in Wang’s. The inscription appears blocklike, set
apart from and subordinated to the painting (acting more as a caption). There is no exchange between the rowing fisherman and the
inscription, and it is unclear whether Wu identifies himself with
the person in his work. In Wang’s painting this subordination is not
only compositionally dissolved, but “these few millimeters of
white, the calm sand of the page” (Foucault 1983, p. 28) are omitted in favor of an incipient melding of picture and characters.
Regarding subordination, see Hay 1985, p. 117. A certain “cartoonlike simplicity and directness” has been observed in Wu’s painting
style (Hearn 2008, p. 94). See also Cahill 1976, p. 73.
15. On the right side Wang left a space between his courtesy name
(Shuming) and the character wei (meaning “for”) above and the
dedicatee’s name and his seal below. Not only does this echo his
signature (Shuming) and his seal on the left, but the three characters (Shuming and wei) on the right are written at the same height
as the two characters (Shuming) on the left.
16. This recalls the truly sparse and austere paintings by Ni Zan (1306–
1374), but Ni’s inscriptions appear less integrated than Wang’s. For
examples of his works in the MMA, see Hearn 2008, pp. 98–105,
pls. 22, 23.
17. In other paintings the gaze is usually directed at something. For
example, the protagonist in Qian Xuan’s short handscroll Wang
Xizhi Watching Geese observes geese swimming in the lake, as does
the figure in Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains, a handscroll painting
by Huang Gongwang (1269–1354) in the collection of the National
Palace Museum, Taipei. In Wang Meng’s Dwelling in Seclusion in
the Summer Mountains (Figure 4) the master in the pavilion looks
toward the attendant. See also Jonathan Hay’s discussion (1989) of
the groom’s gaze in Zhao Mengfu’s painting Horse and Groom in
the MMA and John Hay’s discourse (1994, pp. 137–38) on “Who
is gazing in Ni Zan’s poem? . . . It is a hut that gazes.”
18. The depiction of trees with an exaggerated tilt is not unusual in
Chinese painting and can be seen in other formats. For instance,
in his horizontal work Twin Pines, Level Distance in the MMA
(Hearn 2008, pp. 78–83), Zhao Mengfu depicts one of the two
pines leaning leftward toward the center of the picture. Such trees
may be read in a number of ways: as bearing symbolic significance, fulfilling a compositional function, pointing toward something important, creating a sheltering frame for the narrative focus,
or suggesting space. Other Yuan dynasty fan paintings of this kind
include Angling in the Autumn River by Sheng Zhu (active late
fourteenth century) and Recluse Fisherman, Autumn Trees by
Sheng Mao (ca. 1310–1360), both in the MMA (Fong 1992, pp. 457,
455, pls. 106, 104). The former is not inscribed; the latter bears
only a signature and date.
19. A breeze generally alludes to virtuous men. According to the
Analects of Confucius (Lunyu) (12.19), “the moral character of
those in high position is the breeze, the character of those below
is the grass. When the grass has the breeze upon it, it assuredly
bends” (translation from Sakanishi 1939, p. 90).
20. Here the pavilion looks more like a public one in a scenic spot, as
opposed to the one in Dwelling in Seclusion in the Summer
Mountains (Figure 4), which appears to be attached to a private
residence.
21. The term “mountain rain” often expresses melancholia or nostalgia. Zhao Mengfu uses it in one of his poems together with “sighing.” According to a saying, “before the mountain rain starts, wind
has already arisen”—signifying an omen that can be noticed
before difficulties have surfaced.
22. Jonathan Hay (1989, pp. 132–33) cites Richard Barnhart in mentioning Gu Kaizhi’s alleged statement “In real life a person never
bows or stares when there is nothing in front of him.” Hay hypothesizes that the groom’s gaze in Groom and Horse indicates Zhao’s
self-image, returning “our gaze as he would have returned his
own.”
23. Images of hermits in landscapes go back to the Six Dynasties
period (220–589). It is usually said that the locus classicus for those
hermit scenes is the poetry of Tao Yuanming (365–427), one of the
most influential Chinese poets. He is best known for his poem
“Peach Blossom Spring,” about a utopian land hidden from the
outside world—a model for escapism and retirement. In the late
Yuan “the wilderness hermitage or pavilion sheltered by old trees
became the metaphorical shorthand for the scholar-recluse’s
retreat, where traditional values were treasured and sustained”
(Hearn 2007, p. 100).
24. The expression of “desire” in painting has been discussed by John
Hay (1994).
25. Vinograd 1979, pp. 95, 152–55.
26. Ibid., p. 152.
27. Richard E. Vinograd (ibid., pp. 153, 330) puts Sparse Trees and
Pavilion in the artist’s first phase of artistic development, which
lasted until 1362.
28. The “entrance” into a Chinese painting depends on the format. In
horizontal scrolls it is naturally on the right, and in vertical scrolls
it is very often one of the lower corners. The end of the composition in the former is usually at the left end of the scroll, though in
some examples the movement goes back to the beginning. After
having roamed in a vertical painting, one can “exit” it at the
“entrance” point. The “arboreal gate” as the geometrical center of
the painting will not be discussed here.
29. In contrast, Zhao Mengfu’s Twin Pines, Level Distance is a horizontal scroll that opens only from the right. It bears two inscriptions.
The title and signature next to the two pines on the right offer an
intimate opening image, whereas the long inscription at the far left
of the painting does not provide contextual access.
30. The fan’s mounting, with the spine bisecting the work, enhances
the message of the poem-painting. In the right half, both names are
written and Wang is shown looking at the inscription, expressing
a momentary sense of nearness to Weiyin. This contrasts with the
“lonely” left side, bearing only Wang’s style name Shuming and
the past and future loneliness in the “grotto.”
31. These include Bamboo and Rocks (dated 1364; Suzhou Museum),
which was painted for and dedicated to Zhang Deji; Reading in
Spring Mountains (undated; Shanghai Museum); Writing Books
under the Pine Trees (undated; Cleveland Museum of Art); and
Wang Meng’s Sparse Trees and Pavilion 89
Small Retreat on the Foot of Mount Hui (Indianapolis Museum of
Art). Bamboo and Rocks has a close correspondence of pictorial
and written image, a “contextual entry,” and framing by inscriptions. Three poems, the date, and a dedication are written consecutively, from right to left, from the right side to the center. The
columns of the writing seem to be extensions of the bamboo
leaves, and the bottom characters follow the contour line of the
right rock. Reading in Spring Mountains has an inscription (poem)
that rests on the mountain, nestling against its silhouette. The
brushwork of the characters and the uneven, slightly inclined columns of the writing match the texture and appearance of the background mountains. Writing Books under the Pine Trees further
exemplifies the use of two inscriptions as “brackets” and access
points for a narrative path: a poem, written in seal script at the
upper right, leads down into a small glade with the protagonist’s
hut. Continuing toward the left, the “reader” finds more buildings
behind trees and, at the middle left on a mountain slope, the
author’s signature with a dedication in standard script. Small
Retreat on the Foot of Mount Hui has a nicely integrated inscription, comprising title, dedication, and poem, that leads into the
picture from the right. The style of the seal script is echoed in the
painting style of the trees, some of which lean toward the inscription as if attracted, establishing a link between written and pictorial image across the blank water surface.
REFERENCES
Bol, Peter K.
1992
“This Culture of Ours”: Intellectual Transitions in T’ang
and Sung China. Palo Alto.
Brinker, Helmut
1979
Zauber des chinesischen Fächers. Exh. cat., Haus zum
Kiel, Zürich. Zürich: Museum Rietberg.
Cahill, James
1976
Hills beyond a River: Chinese Painting of the Yüan
Dynasty, 1279–1368. New York.
1980
An Index of Early Chinese Painters and Paintings.
[Vol. 1], T’ang, Sung, and Yüan. Berkeley.
Chang, Joseph
2007
“From the Clear and Distant Landscape of Wuxing
to the Humble Hermit of Clouds and Woods.”
Ars Orientalis 37 (2007, pub. 2009), pp. 33–47.
Fong, Wen C.
1992
Beyond Representation: Chinese Painting and
Calligraphy, 8th–14th Century. New York: MMA.
Foucault, Michel
1983
This Is Not a Pipe. Translated and edited by James
Harkness. Berkeley.
Harrist, Robert E., Jr.
1999
“The Two Perfections: Reading Poetry and Calligraphy.”
In Harrist and Fong 1999, pp. 280–301.
2007
“I Don’t Believe in the Literati But I Miss Them:
A Postscript.” Ars Orientalis 37 (2007, pub. 2009),
pp. 213–17.
Harrist, Robert E., Jr., and Wen C. Fong
1999
The Embodied Image: Chinese Calligraphy from the
John B. Elliott Collection. Exh. cat., Art Museum,
Princeton University; Seattle Art Museum; MMA.
Princeton.
90
Hay, John
1985
“Surface and the Chinese Painter: The Discovery of
Surface.” Archives of Asian Art 38, pp. 95–123.
1991
“Poetic Space: Ch’ien Hsuan and the Association of
Painting and Poetry.” In Murck and Fong 1991,
pp. 173–98.
1994
“Boundaries and Surfaces of Self and Desire in Yuan
Painting.” In Boundaries in China, edited by John Hay,
pp. 124–70. London.
Hay, Jonathan
1989
“Khubilai’s Groom.” RES: Anthropology and Aesthetics,
nos. 17–18, pp. 117–39.
2009
“Luo Ping: The Encounter with the Interior Beyond.” In
Eccentric Visions: The Worlds of Luo Ping (1733–1799),
edited by Kim Karlsson, Alfreda Murck, and Michele
Matteini, pp. 102–11. Exh. cat., Museum Rietberg
Zürich. Zürich.
Hearn, Maxwell K.
2007
“Shifting Paradigms in Yuan Literati Art: The Case of the
Li-Guo Tradition.” Ars Orientalis 37 (2007, pub. 2009),
pp. 78–106.
2008
How to Read Chinese Paintings. New York: MMA.
Hearn, Maxwell K., and Wen C. Fong
1999
Along the Riverbank: Chinese Paintings from the C. C.
Wang Family Collection. Exh. cat. New York: MMA.
Ledderose, Lothar
1979
Mi Fu and the Classical Tradition of Chinese Calligraphy.
Princeton.
Lee, Hui-shu
2001
Exquisite Moments: West Lake and Southern Song Art.
Exh. cat., China Institute Gallery, New York. New York.
Lee, Sherman E.
1964
“Scattered Pearls beyond the Ocean.” Bulletin of the
Cleveland Museum of Art 51, no. 2 (February),
pp. 30–31.
Murck, Alfreda, and Wen C. Fong, eds.
1991
Words and Images: Chinese Poetry, Calligraphy, and
Painting. New York: MMA.
Qi Gong
1991
“The Relationship between Poetry, Calligraphy, and
Painting.” In Murck and Fong 1991, pp. 11–20.
Sakanishi, Shio, trans.
1939
The Spirit of the Brush; Being the Outlook of Chinese
Painters on Nature, from Eastern Chin to Five Dynasties,
317–960. London.
Shih, Shou-chien
1984
“Eremitism in Landscape Paintings by Ch’ien Hsuan
(ca. 1235–before 1307).” Ph.D. diss., Princeton
University.
Sullivan, Michael
1974
The Three Perfections: Chinese Painting, Poetry, and
Calligraphy. London.
Vinograd, Richard E.
1979
“Wang Meng’s Pien Mountains: The Landscape of
Eremitism in Later Fourteenth Century Chinese
Painting.” Ph.D. diss., University of California, Berkeley.
Zhang Hongxing
2005
“Re-Reading Inscriptions in Chinese Scroll Painting: The
Eleventh to the Fourteenth Centuries.” Art History 28,
no. 5 (November), pp. 606–25.